This is actually going to be a short post. Shocking I know; can I do it? Let's see!
A few updates: Tristan and I made an adult step (read: tortured the toddler) by driving down to the Rogue River Valley over the holiday, and all over the valley, seeing rentals and hoping, dreaming, discussing, being exhausted...but not fighting, or bitching, or whining. It's like the best of us and ourselves was being saved up for that weekend. We saw 18 rentals, put in applications (fingers, toes, arms, and legs all crossed a thousand times over that we get accepted!) and through it all-Kaeden was amazing. He did scream a few times, but he went into the car seat (I really, really need to wash that today, it's icky beyond my level to handle) mostly without complaints a zillion times, and slept pretty well even though it was a new, noisy, kinda not great hotel (cheap is cheap) and he had the worst butt rash I'd ever seen, coupled with pretty horrible diarrhea. We'd no sooner go through the pain of cleaning him up, applying cream and powder and setting him free to cuddle with a blanket and tell the other parent how evil we were....then he'd need to be changed again. But we managed the weekend without resorting to Advil and we all came through intact. We even managed a side trip up to Crater Lake (pictures below).
My new best (and to this date, only) "Mommy" friend, Becky, is currently driving up from their old home in Huntington Beach, Cali, up to their new house in St. Helens, yup that's in Oregon folks and yup, that's a 20-30 minute drive from me right now! "Becky is coming, Becky is coming!" has been playing on repeat in my head all day, and I have all sorts of wonderful (read: probably nefarious) plans for the next two weeks where we will actually be less than a zillion miles apart. Bring it!
Also, just so everyone knows this and can back me up on it, Tristan is no longer allowed near a washer and dryer. EVER. He can put dirty laundry in the laundry basket. He can fold laundry and put it away as neatly as his big heart pleases. He can even nag me about laundry until the day I outlive him and set his ashes free in the Maine ocean waters. He cannot and will not ever run the washer again.
Why such a hard stance, you ask? My justification: Tristan was kind enough to start a load of laundry (of shirts, baby clothes, and our queen sized sheets mixed, but that's another pet peeve for another day) before he went to bed while I was working. When I went to switch that load on my break, my brain broke and I had to laugh. And then immediately post on Facebook that Tristan is no longer allowed near a washing machine.
Do you know what is in disposable diapers to make them so absorbent? After looking in the washer tonight, I had to find out. It's a polymer called sodium polyacrylate, to be exact. It can absorb 200-300 times it's weight. Cool, right? Apparently, more than 300 times it's weight is how much water an average large load washer uses during a normal cycle. Like my parent's washer. At least now I know what the crystalline stuff is that is currently all over my clothes, Tristan's clothes (including his brand new, beloved Dickies cargo pants) and my second favorite set of purple sheets.
I love you, honey. No more washer for you. No nos!
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